


what's my hand (without your heart to hold)

by twelfthofnever



Series: this love is ours [2]
Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Kind of Canon Compliant, M/M, Porn With Plot, callum is still an undertaker because i said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelfthofnever/pseuds/twelfthofnever
Summary: the one where ben is drowning in his own thoughts and callum is there to pull him to the surface.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Series: this love is ours [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772752
Comments: 9
Kudos: 97





	what's my hand (without your heart to hold)

**Author's Note:**

> did someone order a bucket load of angst?
> 
> title from tell me you love me by demi lovato.
> 
> ***
> 
> thank you guys so much for all your lovely comments and messages about the first part to this series. that's a huge part of the reason i decided to turn it into a series in the first place. you have no idea how much your words mean to me. i'm very grateful, thank you x
> 
> i should say that each part of this series will be a standalone oneshot, so you don't need to read the others in order to know what's going on. but it would still be really cool if you did :)
> 
> i'm sorry for any mistakes, it's 5am and i'm very tired.
> 
> i hope you enjoy! x

It’s one of those days.

Ben is irritable at breakfast, snapping without meaning to when Callum chats sunnily about nothing over coffee. He’s such a morning person, always bright and cheerful despite the fact that the birds haven’t even started chirping outside yet. 

Ben is the complete opposite. 

Often, he’ll stumble out of bed with one eye open, the other squinting in a valiant effort to hold onto the last few moments of slumber. It takes him a while to warm up to the idea of being awake for a whole day, again, when all he really wants to do is crawl back into bed where it’s cosy and safe and the scent of his boyfriend lingers on the sheets. 

Where he doesn't have to be anybody but himself.

He plonks himself unceremoniously down at the kitchen table, watching as Callum bumbles around making breakfast, humming along to the radio and making idle small talk about the old lady in the flat upstairs who had a fall in Lidl last week, so he’s going to pick her a few things up from the shop on his way home. 

He isn’t expecting Ben’s snark in return, and he definitely doesn’t deserve it, but Ben can’t help it. 

He didn’t sleep well the night before, tossing and turning, so desperate for sleep to come that his brain was working overtime to make it happen. He’d managed to drift off a couple of hours before Callum’s ridiculous alarm rang out at the crack of dawn. 

He’s standing to press a mumbled apology to Callum’s forehead before he knows what he’s doing. 

“I'm being an idiot," He whispers into Callum's hair. "I had a crap night last night and I’m taking it out on you." 

He feels Callum's hand push up and under the material of his t-shirt to stroke reassuringly at the still sleep-warm skin of his hip.

“Something on your mind?” 

Ben knows he should be honest, but he doesn’t know how he’d find the words to describe the knot in his stomach that tightens every time he looks at Callum lately, and how the weight of knowing that he’ll never be good enough, never deserve this life with this man, hangs thick and heavy around his neck like a noose. 

It’s always there but sometimes it's louder than others, like today.

It's moments like this where it's impossible to ignore just how big Callum's heart really is. He's selfless, kind, loving. Everything Ben is not. He can't figure out why the hell someone as sweet as Callum, as _good_ as Callum, is with someone like Ben. 

It makes no sense to him, and he feels like it's only a matter of time before Callum figures it out too.

It unsettles him, makes it difficult to rest until he’s physically exhausted. There are things swimming around in his head that keep him preoccupied, distracted and distant from where he really longs to be. In the present. With Callum. 

No matter how hard he tries to swallow it down, there’s always a part of him that can’t shake the sickly feeling of dread that threatens to bubble up from deep inside when he thinks about the day Callum inevitably comes to his senses and walks away. 

There are times when he will throw Ben a soft look, eyes gentle and kind and so full of the love that Ben doesn’t deserve, and he has to choke down the scream that boils in his chest. 

He’s terrified, in those moments. Terrified of accepting that love, of pushing himself into Callum’s chest and feeling the heart that beats there just for him, because he’s sure one day he’s going to lose it all. 

In those moments, it makes sense to save himself the pain by not accepting the love in the first place, so he'll make a stupid joke or bite out a weak insult or distance himself from Callum completely by walking away. 

The thing is, Callum knows Ben. He _sees_ him, always has. He has this amazing ability to know what Ben is thinking and feeling, even when Ben doesn’t know himself sometimes. 

He’s attuned to everything Ben feels, can sense the slightest shift in his moods, and he’s surprisingly adept at accommodating them. 

Usually, when Ben retreats into his own head like this, there’s a panic that takes root in his chest, and Callum knows that what he really needs is space to breathe. He doesn’t crowd him, doesn’t hold him close and whisper sweet nothings or promises of _it’ll be okay_ , like he wants to. 

He always stays close, though, just the reach of an arm away, for when Ben is ready to let himself be comforted with a warm body pressed against his own. Sometimes, Ben is only comfortable confessing what torments him when he can hide his face and breathe it into the soft material of Callum’s t-shirt. 

Now though, instead of answering Callum's question, he simply pulls away and shakes his head, kissing his boyfriend square on the lips and smiling into it to distract them both from the fact that there is definitely something on his mind.

When Callum leaves for work, he’s cautious as if approaching a wild animal, voice calm and touch gentle when he kisses Ben goodbye and promises to see him soon. 

_We'll talk about it later_ , are the unspoken words that Callum leaves hanging in the air between them as he leaves Ben alone with his thoughts.

***

Work is infuriating, the punters grate on his very last nerve, and every time the phone rings he feels his teeth curl. 

The heavy thoughts floating around in his head feel so loud, as if there's a crowd of people all gathered around to point out all of Ben's failures, bringing his attention to his insecurities and picking at them until they bleed, and the harder he tries to drown it out, the louder it gets.

By lunch time, he’s had enough. 

He locks up at the car lot, intending to head over to the Vic for a quiet pint, but he decides against it at the last minute. The last thing he needs is Shirley’s dulcet tones in his ear while he’s trying to relax. 

He passes the parlour on his way, and considers ducking his head in to let Callum know that he’s heading home, so that he doesn’t burst into the car lot on his lunch break with sandwiches and hot chocolate and a beaming smile like he always does. 

It’s a comfortable little tradition for them, time to spend together during the day when nobody else is around and there are no other demands on their time.

Today, though, his mind is heavy with self doubt, and what he really wants to do is go and hide under the duvet in the hopes of finally getting some sleep. 

So he sends a quick text to Callum to let him know where he'll be, and goes home. 

***

He changes into one of Callum’s t-shirts, a faded old one, worn soft over time. He likes to sleep in this one. Miraculously, there always seems to be a scent of Callum lingering in the material despite the fact that he never wears it any more, and it comforts Ben more than he's willing to admit out loud.

The bedroom is dull with the curtains closed, despite it only being midday. The sun is hiding behind the clouds, and it casts a grey, murky shadow over the room. 

Ben tries to rest, but the thoughts swimming around in his head in the silence is deafening. He tries instead to concentrate on the rhythmic ticking of the clock on his bedside table, watching as the hands jump from one second to another, one minute to the next. 

He lies there for twenty minutes, staring at the clock and then staring at the ceiling and then staring at absolutely nothing in particular. Sleep isn't coming. In the quiet, all he can hear is every single thought he's been trying so desperately to avoid.

Then, he hears the front door click, and Callum's voice breaks the choking silence as he calls out to let Ben know he's home. 

"In here," Ben shouts, and then his boyfriend materialises in the bedroom doorway. 

Neither of them speak. Ben just watches Callum strip out of his work clothes down to his underwear on his way around the bed to his own side, and he pulls back the covers and shuffles slightly to accommodate Callum as he climbs in beside him. 

It's instant, the way they melt together, like magnets. 

Ben is in Callum's arms almost immediately, head resting on Callum's chest right over his heartbeat, and their hands are stroking and holding and clinging, and it's the first time since he woke up that Ben feels like he can breathe.

Tension that he hadn't even been aware of bleeds from every pore, and he softens a little more with every passing moment in Callum's warm embrace. For a long while, neither of them speak, content to simply breathe together, but there's still a dark cloud hanging over Ben, and it doesn't let him relax.

The sun has come out now, and it bleeds through the curtains and casts a pretty glow across them both. Ben feels comfortable enough here, safe enough, to confide his fears to Callum.

“I don’t-” he starts, and at first the words tangle in his throat. He tries again. “I don’t deserve you.”

There. It’s out in the open now.

It’s not like he hasn’t said things like this before in the heat of an argument, or in the few painful moments when he’s had no choice but to push Callum away, to save him from the darkness that clouds Ben’s life. All of those times, though, it had been about Callum.

Callum deserves better. Callum deserves someone good. Callum deserves uncomplicated, simple, love. 

This is different. This is Ben admitting to a fear that grips him so tightly that sometimes he can’t breathe. What he has with Callum, the intimate, bone-deep love that they share, is something Ben never believed he would have in his life, let alone with a person so inherently good as Callum. 

“What are you talking about?” Callum whispers into Ben’s hair. 

“I’m not a good person. I know I’m not. Everyone else knows it too. I can see it in their eyes. Mum, Lola, Jay, even my dad, and he’s hardly a saint is he?” He takes a deep breath, and Callum is quiet, doesn’t interrupt him, lets him gather his thoughts, unscramble them. “But I see the way _you_ look at me, Callum, and it’s different. You look at me like- like I’m someone else, something more, but I ain’t.” 

“I don’t want you to be someone else.” Callum tries to reassure, but Ben doesn’t let him do it. Not this time. 

“The person I am ain’t someone who deserves you.” He presses his face into the soft, warm skin of Callum’s chest even as his words push him away. “It’s only a matter of time before you realise it, and I can’t lose you, Callum. It scares me.” 

Callum’s fingers press gently under Ben’s chin, and when their eyes meet, there is a sadness in Callum’s eyes that Ben is so tired of seeing there. It’s a sorrow reserved only for him, and he is always the one responsible for putting it there.

“You-” Callum starts, and his voice is rough with the threat of tears. “You are the love of my life, and it don’t matter how many times you try to convince us both that you’re not good enough, I’m never going to believe it.” 

Ben wants to pull away. He wants to rush out the door and walk this off, whatever it is. He’s been lost in his own head all day and the worst part is, he’s not even sure what triggered it. All he knows is that Callum is apologising, appeasing, reasoning with him and his intrusive thoughts. Again. 

It’s a cycle. They’re good for a few months and then, all of a sudden, something deep inside Ben decides that he’s been happy for long enough, and that’s when the doubt creeps in. 

When they first got together, Callum had taken it personally, the few times that Ben had put a harsh and sudden distance between them, sweeping the rug from under Callum’s feet just when he thought they were becoming something more.

Ben had pushed him away for selfish reasons, really. He knew in his heart that one day Callum would figure him out, see him for who he really is, and by that point it might be too late. Ben might already be in love with him. 

(It’s not like falling in love with a man like Callum Highway is hard; Ben had already been falling by the time they first kissed, and they weren’t even what you could call _friends_ at that point.)

It was better, Ben had figured, to be the one to break things off, to be the one to decide how and when things ended, like a controlled demolition, where Ben would be able to find and pick up the pieces of his broken heart more easily than if Callum had blown the whole thing up in his face when he least expected it, leaving his heart shattered and scattered in the dust as he left.

Callum got wise to that trick quickly though. He didn’t let himself be pushed away. 

He knows what goes on inside Ben’s head. Knows there are voices that drip poison into Ben’s mind about his own worth, and Callum does everything in his power to silence them. He’ll spend the rest of his life, every single day, reminding Ben how much he loves him, and how lucky he feels to be facing whatever life throws at him with Ben by his side. 

How he wants Ben. Only Ben. Forever, he hopes.

Guilt twists like a knife in Ben’s gut, though, because he doesn’t mean to make Callum constantly feel like he has to prove his love, his commitment to Ben, but somehow that’s always what ends up happening. God, he can’t fucking _stand_ himself sometimes.

“I know, Cal. I know that.” He reassures, voice much steadier than he really feels. “And I love you, too. Really, I do. I just want to be good for you, and it’s hard sometimes. When I know that I’m not.”

“That’s up to me to decide, ain’t it?” 

Ben’s settled back down now, eyes closed against the weight of the conversation, against his own feelings. He tries to focus on the feeling of Callum’s fingers in his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, or the soft, melodic thump of Callum’s heartbeat beneath his cheek. 

“You’re so good, Callum. So good. To everyone you meet, cause it’s in your nature, ain’t it?” He reasons. “You hear the old bat upstairs has done her hip in and your first thought is to make sure her cupboards are well stocked, but me? I just complain the whole time about the noise her bloody crutches make when she’s hobbling around up there.” 

Callum huffs out a soft laugh, and Ben feels it in his hair, and it makes him smile too. 

“To be fair, she does sound like a herd of rampaging elephants.” Callum chuckles. 

“I swear she didn’t even walk around this much before she broke her flamin’ hip!” 

“She ain’t broke it, it’s just sore.” Callum informs him, and Ben rolls his eyes. 

“And how would you know?” 

“She told me so when I took her shopping up earlier.” 

Ben lets out something between a laugh and a groan and playfully thumps Callum square in the chest. “See! Good person! What the fuck do you see in me at all?”

“Oh, you mean apart from the fact that you’re proper fit?” Callum mumbles, and he presses the question in the form of a kiss into Ben’s hair. 

He knows it’s a joke, but the compliment still makes Ben blush, and he tries to hide it by snuggling further into Callum’s chest, but his boyfriend has other ideas. Before he knows it, he’s flat on his back, and the comfortable weight of Callum settles on top of him. They’re both grinning and a little breathless when their eyes meet. 

“Well, yeah. Apart from that.” He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, and he almost convinces both of them that he believes it. 

For all his bravado, the swagger in his walk and the confidence he has with other people - here, in the safety of their bed, with Callum, he can be himself. Here, his insecurities surface without fear of mockery or shame. 

“I mean it. You’re beautiful.” Callum’s face is serious. 

“I know you do.” He tries to say, but it comes out as more of a whisper. 

“You’re gorgeous.” 

Callum leans down then, shifts his weight, shimmies down the bed a little so that he can comfortably ghost his lips in gentle kisses along Ben’s cheeks, the eyelids, the tip of his nose, his lips. 

“You say you ain’t a good person, Ben, but do you remember last summer, before I came out? Do you remember how you helped me? How you…saved me?” 

“That weren’t me being good, Cal. I was being selfish,” Ben huffs, and he reaches up to stroke a loose strand of Callum’s hair away from his face, and lets his fingers linger and rest gently against the soft skin of his cheek. “I wanted you.”

“You were so patient with me. My head was a right mess and I didn’t know my arse from my elbow most days, but you were there when I needed you.” 

“Weren’t exactly a hardship, was it?” Ben says, and then, softer, “I’d have done anything just to be near you.”

“Before though, when you were winding me up all the time, constantly having a dig and dropping hints to Whitney about me, there were times when I hated you.” 

“I’m sorry.” Ben whispers, but Callum isn’t looking for apologies, and he hushes Ben with a featherlight kiss.

“Let me finish.”

Ben grins. 

“That night, at the flat-warming, you were different. You were heartbroken. I hadn’t seen you like that before. You were honest. Scared and vulnerable. I saw the real you that night, for the first time.” 

Callum’s wearing a sad smile now, and he props himself up on his elbows, settling his weight on Ben, chest to chest. His fingers stroke at Ben’s hairline and gently trace the contours of his face. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not.” Callum says adamantly. “I think that was the start of it, for me. I fell for you a little bit that night. And then in the park, when we kissed for the first time…” 

“Unexpected.” Ben remarks. 

“It changed my life, Ben. I thought about it every second of every day afterwards. You never left my mind after that night. Not once.” There’s so much sincerity in his voice, written all over his face, that Ben has to look away before it overwhelms him.

“Then you played hard to get the entire summer, didn’t ya?” Ben teases, trying to diffuse the tension, There’s a thick blanket of emotion that seems to have nestled around them, and he’s finding it hard to swallow around the lump in his throat. 

“If it weren’t for you, I’d still be that person, you know. I’d still be hiding, living half a life.” Callum tells him. “Now, look at me. I’ve got you, I’ve got a whole new family who accept me for who I really am...God, Ben, I’m _alive_ because of you.”

“Stop-” 

“Because you didn’t give up on me.” He kisses Ben, soft but firm, there’s meaning behind it. “And I ain’t giving up on you. Not now, not ever.”

“You can’t promise that, Callum.” 

“I just did.” 

“Cal-” Ben starts, but Callum clamps a hand over his mouth to stop him from arguing. 

“Shut up!” He’s wearing that goofy half smile that Ben loves so much. “You are good for me. You just don’t see it. But I do.”

Ben licks a wet stripe across Callum’s palm, and he yelps and yanks it back to wipe it on the pillow by Ben’s head. 

“You’re the only one. Everybody else is just waiting for me to ruin it.” Ben tells him, hating how insecure he sounds. 

“They don’t matter, Ben. They don’t know anything about _us_.” Callum stresses. “They don’t know how happy you make me, and frankly, it’s none of their business.” 

“No?” Ben smiles. 

“No.”

“And exactly how happy do I make you?” Ben hums inquisitively, and the air around them seems light, all of a sudden. He feels like he can breathe again. 

“Oh, very.” Callum winks with both eyes. It’s adorable, and Ben’s stomach flutters. He feels himself fall in love with Callum just a little bit more. 

Resisting the urge to kiss him is as impossible as trying to catch smoke with his bare hands, so Ben doesn’t bother trying. He reaches up with a gentle hand on Callum’s cheek, pulls him in for a soft kiss. It starts gentle, just a sweet brush of lips, nothing more. Ben hums happily at the feel of it, at how natural and good and right it is. 

When Callum’s tongue slips against his own, Ben’s grip on his boyfriend tightens, and the kiss moves from sweet and featherlight into something urgent and biting. Callum’s weight is on him, bodies touching everywhere, and he pushes his hips down leisurely into Ben’s - a slow, delicious grind that has Ben moaning and biting into Callum’s mouth. 

It always happens like this. There’s something about kissing Callum that drives Ben absolutely wild. He’d never really cared much about kissing before they got together. He’d much rather skip it and go straight to the wham, bam, thank you Sam. With hookups, it was about as quick and to the point as it was possible to get. 

Sometimes, Ben was even selfish enough to bolt as soon as the guy he’d spent a whole night eyeing across the bar to tempt him into bed had given him what he wanted, not bothering to even attempt to satisfy the poor bloke in return. It’s different with Callum, though. He means something, and he has done right from the beginning, even if it did take them both a long time to admit it. 

(Ben couldn’t believe he’d never kissed a bloke before, the first time they hooked up. Sure, his kisses had been cautious and nervous at first, but once he warmed up, it blew Ben’s mind. He’d been so in control, holding Ben’s head and putting him exactly where he wanted him, switching so seamlessly between deep, passionate, life-affirming strokes of his tongue, and breathless, biting, sucking kisses that Ben felt right down to his fucking toes.

After that night in the park, Ben had spent the whole summer with a hollow, craving ache in his chest. Every time he’d seen Callum in those few months that they’d danced around each other, he’d had to fight so hard to resist the urge to get down on his knees and beg Callum to _please fucking kiss me like that again, I’ll do anything_.)

They haven’t been making out for very long, but Ben’s already lightheaded. He’s clawing at his own t-shirt, desperate to get it off. He’s too hot, there’s blood rushing in every direction, and he needs to feel Callum’s skin against his. 

Callum, ever the gentleman, helps Ben to shrug out of his shirt, and Ben blindly tosses it across the room. He doesn’t care where it lands, all of his attention is focused on crashing his lips back to Callum’s.

He pushes at Callum’s shoulders, rolls them over until he’s straddling his thighs, groaning when Callum palms at his hips, grip tight and squeezing. He’s moaning into Ben’s mouth, and the feeling of being so wanted by the beautiful man under him makes him feel giddy. _There is no better feeling than this_ , he thinks. 

He whines when Callum pulls back to look at him, a steadying hand on Ben’s chest. His lips are pink, spit-slick and kiss-bitten, and pupils are blown wide. His lashes brush against the soft pink that’s dusting his cheekbones as he blinks slowly, gazing up at Ben with a look that makes Ben’s heart jump. 

_God, Ben would give this man anything_. 

“What do you want?” Ben breathes into the space between them, watching as Callum’s eyes darken and he bites at his lip. 

He pulls Ben down, flat against his chest, brushes his lips against the shell of Ben’s ear and whispers, “Want you to ride me.”

Ben lets out a soft _fuck_ before he can stop himself. There’s a shiver that runs down his spine at Callum’s words. He pulls back slowly, lets their cheeks brush, their stubble scratch, and then he pushes himself up to hover above Callum, hands either side of his head. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Callum’s voice is rough, eyes dark. 

“My pleasure.” Ben winks, dropping a quick kiss to Callum’s lips and shifting to shuffle out of the last of his clothes. He’s fishing the lube from the bedside table when he turns and catches a glimpse of Callum stripping out of his boxers. He wolf-whistles, and pats Callum’s backside cheekily as he jumps back onto the bed. “Peachy!”

Callum blushes, drops his head and shakes it, but there’s a shy smile there. Ben loves that smile.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Ben drawls, pushing Callum into the mattress and clambering on top of him. 

“M’not,” Callum protests. He catches the look on Ben’s face that says he doesn’t quite believe him, and reaches up to grip Ben by the neck. “Just kiss me some more, will ya?”

“Bossy.” Ben tuts, but he goes willingly. 

The kiss is everything Ben loves. Callum commands it. He laps his tongue into Ben’s mouth, and for a while all they do is taste each other, until Ben shifts position slightly, and they both groan out loud at the much needed friction as their cocks brush against each other. After that, it becomes a sweaty, desperate grind until they’re both hard and panting. 

Ben fumbles blindly for the lube that he’d dropped to the bed the moment Callum had gotten his hands back on him. When he finds it, he sits up, and he’s just about to dribble it onto his own fingers, eager to open himself up and get to the best part, when Callum closes a hand around his wrist and stops him. 

“Wait,” he says, shuffling down the bed a little and dragging a pillow into a comfortable position under his neck. “Come up here-” he pats his shoulder, gently encourages Ben to crawl up and over him, until he’s lined up, hovering over Callum’s face, “- let me.”

Ben’s knees almost give out when Callum mouths at his balls, sucking, licking, kissing, and he gets a fist around his cock and pulls, just to alleviate some of the pressure he feels building already. Callum’s hands are on his arse, coaxing Ben to shift until Callum has him where he wants him. 

Ben lets out a shout when he feels Callum’s tongue sweep along the crease of him. He loves this. Loves the feeling of Callum’s mouth on him, and he’d sussed pretty early on in their relationship that this is something Callum fucking adores doing. He’ll often spend hours opening Ben up this way, with his deft tongue and plump lips, kissing and sucking until Ben’s writhing and wet and open and begging for him. 

Callum hums appreciatively as he nuzzles and licks at Ben’s hole. 

Ben leans forward a little, dips his head and cranes his neck, eager to watch because this is fucking hot, okay? Callum must feel him shift, because his eyes flick up to meet Ben’s, and even though the angle is awkward, he can see where Callum’s tongue is flicking against him, hot and wet. The sight of it is hot enough on its own, but with Callum watching him intently, eyes dark and full of _want_ , Ben feels himself start to come undone. 

The room is glowing pale and pretty around them now, and they’re both moaning together as Ben rocks himself down onto Callum’s tongue, eager to get him as deep as possible. He straightens up, knowing that if he watches for much longer he’s going to blow his load before either of them get their fill. 

He feels Callum’s shoulder nudging slightly, and at first Ben thinks that he wants his attention again, but quickly realises that Callum is fisting at his own dick lazily. 

“Hang on. Stop,” Ben says, voice wrecked.. 

He kneels up, clambers to the side of Callum, and for a moment they’re an awkward tangle of limbs as they reposition themselves, until Ben settles between Callum’s thighs - long, thick legs spread out either side of him - and watches Callum watching him as he dips his head and sucks at the head of Callum’s dick. 

The noise Callum makes is _gorgeous_. 

“Fuck, your mouth,” Callum pants. He threads long fingers into Ben’s hair and pulls when Ben takes him deep, sucking hard and fast, hot and tight and wet. 

Ben loves the heavy, thick, silky feeling of Callum in his mouth. Hums greedily at the taste of him. One hand is fisting at Callum’s dick, relishing in the drag of it, squeezing and stroking. His gaze is on Callum, and he can’t help but rut into the bed, desperate for some friction when Callum throws his head back and exposes his neck with a moan.

“So good. You’re _so good_ , Ben.” Callum says, more than a little breathless, when their eyes meet again, and he’s stroking Ben’s cheek, with his other hand, and Ben feels pride swell deep inside him at the praise. “Nobody else could ever feel this good, Ben. Only you.”

Ben moans around Callum’s dick and closes his eyes against the intensity that burns in Callum’s eyes. The meaning behind those words aren’t lost on him, and it overwhelms him every time Callum tells him that he’s good. Reminds him that he’s loved. That he’s _worthy_ of that love. 

They’re both more than a little desperate now, and Callum pulls Ben up and over him so that they’re pressed together, so that they can kiss, all teeth and tongues, tasting each other and holding on tight, hands caressing and clinging and loving. Ben gets a hand around both of them, rubbing them together messily, not really stroking, just relishing in the feeling of Callum’s dick against his. 

Callum gives no warning, and Ben jumps a little as a slicked up finger brushes against his hole, dipping in and searching out that sweet spot inside him that makes his brain short circuit and lights fireworks along his spine. By the time Callum’s working three long fingers inside Ben, they’re both frantic with want, panting and moaning and moving together desperately. 

“I’m ready,” Ben insists, and he ignores Callum’s hesitation. Callum is big, and as modest and shy as he is about it sometimes, he always wants to be absolutely sure that Ben is open enough, ready enough to take him. Ben loves that about him, the way he cares, the way he’ll hold off on what they both want just a little longer if it means it’ll feel better for Ben. 

Right now, though, Ben can’t bring himself to wait another second. He slicks Callum’s dick with a shaky hand, and then gets to his knees and lines himself up. As he sinks down slowly, inch by agonising inch, they both groan with the relief of it. _Finally._

Once he bottoms out, he stays there for a little while, adjusting. Callum tilts his chin up, he wants a kiss, and Ben smiles as he crashes their lips together. Callum wraps his arms around Ben’s torso, and he presses one hand to the small of Ben’s back, holds him there as he bucks his hips up slowly, pushing impossibly deeper. 

Ben lets out a sound he’d be embarrassed by if he wasn’t so completely comfortable with Callum. 

They’re still kissing messily when Ben lifts his hips and sinks back down, and that’s the pace he keeps. He pushes up, steadies himself with hands pressed to Callum’s chest, and he can feel the way Callum’s heart races beneath his palm as he rides him, hard and fast and so, so fucking good. 

They’re both sweating, and Callum’s cheeks are flushed and he’s looking at Ben like…

Like he’s _everything_.

All of a sudden, everything feels too much. Callum’s buried so deep inside him, and he rocks back and forth, clenching around Callum just to draw that cute little hiss from his boyfriend every time he does it. He’s desperately close, and he wants to come so badly, but he wants Callum to come first. He wants to feel it, and he tells him so as he picks up the pace, switching between a slow grind, and a frantic up-down that has Callum writhing and twisting and gripping the bed sheets tight between his fists. 

“Come on, baby,” Ben cooes, dropping unhurried, gentle kisses to Callum’s lips, cheek, forehead, neck. “Come for me. Let me feel it. I wanna feel it.” He’s babbling, he knows he is, but he’s desperate for it. 

“Ben-” is all Callum manages to get out before he’s gripping Ben tight to him like a vice and thrusting up into him, hips quick and balls slapping up against the meat of Ben’s arse with the force of it, and then he’s coming, deep inside Ben, where he belongs. Both of them moan at the feeling, of filling Ben up, of being full. 

Ben’s heart is hammering against his ribcage, and it feels as though it’s going to beat right out of his chest. Watching Callum come is a beautiful thing. The way his face contorts, the sounds he makes, the way he holds onto Ben as if he’ll die if he lets go. The look of pure bliss as his eyes meet Ben’s, a sedated smile on his face, eyes full of a love so _perfect_ that it tips Ben over the edge.

He sits up again, gets a fist around his own dick and rides his own orgasm out, coming with a shout over Callum’s chest. 

They’re both panting, flushed and sweating and absolutely giddy with adrenaline when Ben flops exhaustedly down beside Callum on the bed. Callum’s hand brushes against Ben’s, and they tangle their fingers together and lie there in companionable silence, grinning at each other while they come down from their highs, until a thought crosses Ben’s mind and he huffs out a breathless laugh that turns into a little cough. 

Callum raises an eyebrow questioningly.

“I just remembered something Jay said the other day. Said we’re like an old married couple,” Ben explains. “But how many old married couples do you know who have quickies on their lunch breaks?” 

Callum rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing too. “That weren’t a quickie, ya muppet.” He says, reaching a long arm over the side of the bed and fishing one of their t-shirts from the floor so that he can clean them both up a little. 

“What would you call it then?” Ben asks, smiling softly despite the joke in his tone. Callum is taking care of him, like he always does. It makes his heart swell. 

“Well, a quickie is dead rushed, ain’t it? A spur of the moment thing.” Callum reasons. “That was more like-”

“Go on.” Ben encourages, and he tries to keep his expression neutral, wants Callum to feel comfortable saying what he feels. He’s safe with Ben. 

“Making love.” He says, sure of himself. He meets Ben’s eyes. “Sex with you has always felt like that. Like making love.”

Ben softens, and pulls Callum into his arms, kissing his hair and holding him tight. Callum settles, drags the duvet over them because the room feels a little cold now. 

“Yeah.” He agrees. “Yeah, you’re right.”

They’re content, then, to cuddle quietly together, to press gentle kisses to soft lips, to breathe each other in. It’s Ben who breaks the silence again. 

“When do you have to be back at work?” He whispers, carding his fingers absentmindedly through Callum’s hair. 

“I don’t.” Callum says, and smiles warmly at the confused expression on Ben’s face. “I took the afternoon off.”

Ben’s fingers still. “How come?”

“You needed me.” Callum offers by way of explanation, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I’ll always be here when you need me.”

“I just needed to get over myself. I was being stupid.” Ben mumbles, feeling guilty that he’d worried Callum this much.

“It’s not stupid.” Ben sniffs disbelievingly, and Callum sits up a little, makes sure that Ben meets his eyes before he speaks again. “Ben. You’re amazing, okay? I know you don’t believe me. I know there’s a part of you that believes you don’t deserve me, but I’m telling you that you’re _wrong_ , okay?”

“It’s just-” 

“No, listen to me.” Callum’s voice is sure. Certain. Imploring Ben to believe him. “Whatever mistakes you’ve made in the past are exactly that. They’re in the past. They’re gone, but I’m not. I’m still here, after everything.”

“You must be mad.” Ben tries to deflect a little from the weight of the conversation. 

“I’m in love.” Callum corrects him. “And what we have, Ben. It’s worth fighting for. _You_ are worth fighting for. And you might not believe me right now, but I’ll happily spend the rest of my life trying to convince you that you’re _it_ for me.”

Ben swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to blink the tears in his eyes away. “The rest of your life, eh?”

“ _Forever_.”

When their lips brush, an unhurried kiss, Ben closes his eyes and lets himself feel it. He lets himself be loved, and loves fiercely in return. Ben has had a lot on his mind lately. A lot of self-doubt. It’s hard, when there’s a voice in your head that constantly questions you, and works tirelessly to convince you just how bad you really are. 

But there’s another voice now. This voice is calm, and sweet, and reassuring. It’s proud, and protective, and loyal. It battles his demons when he’s too exhausted to fight them himself. It’s a voice that he knows, a voice that he loves.

 _It’s Callum_.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments welcome, as always x


End file.
